Purely Physical and Nothing More, Right?
by lucky limeade
Summary: Harry and Draco have quite an attraction for each other. And they plan to keep it just that: attraction. But what happens when these plans go a bit... awry?
1. Pansy Parkinson is a Pain in the Ass

All of the characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. Only the plot is mine. If you don't like slash or swearing, don't read very far into this story. You've been warned. Please rate, because I don't know if it's any good. I hope it is....  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Pansy Parkinson is a Pain in the Ass:  
  
I walked down the hall, frantically trying to think of a way to loose my girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson, once and for all. Pansy was a short, squat demon-child with a squashed face and a lisp, and her personality was even worse then her appearance. She was an evil, clingy, boring as hell Avril Lavinge fan who would often squeeze her tree trunk legs into a miniskirt, and scream, "I'm a sexy bitch!" like a banshee.  
  
To top it all off, she wouldn't let me dump her. I had tried every line in the book: I like you as a friend; we should see other people; I'm in love with Mother Earth; I'm moving to Iraq because I like the feel of berkas, there I shall clone myself and send my clone (who does not love you) back to Hogwarts; It's not like I want to, but I've become possessed by Granger's eyebrows so I must kill you now.  
  
I had discovered that it was also impossible to make her dump me. Earlier that day, the two of us had gotten into a fight, but to no avail. I remember the conversation well:  
  
Pansy: I'm thinking about getting plathtic thurgery.   
  
Me: Oh good, now nobody will call you "Pancake Face" anymore!  
  
Pansy: You bitch! I'm going to get my lipth puffed!  
  
*SMACK*  
  
Another thing that annoyed me about *my girlfriend* was her nails. They were long, thick and fake, and she often found dried blood beneath them.  
  
Approximately 27 seconds after Pansy slashed open my newly exfoliated face, she attempted to kiss me. Kissing Pansy is like kissing a St. Bernard. She thrusts herself against you while slobbering all over your face.  
  
But what could I do? I was stuck. I realized that this whole time, Pop-N-Fresh had been babbling incoherently, and I decided that I might as well listen to her, seeing as all of my plots to desert her had failed, and she was my girlfriend.  
  
"...Tho anywayth, I wath thnooping around Thnape'th dethk again, and -- you will never believe thith, honethtly, I am not lying -- there wath a love note to Dan Quayle! I wath going to tell you earlier, but I got hungry and I..."  
  
*Shudder* I couldn't take this. I had to get out. But how? I had tried everything -- except, of course, telling Pansy the truth. There were two reasons that I wanted out of this relationship so badly. The first was that Pansy was an ignorant, annoying elephant of a woman, but I decided that if I didn't want to join the Witness Protection Program, telling her that might not be the best option.  
  
The other reason that I wasn't thrilled to be with Pansy wasn't anything else I could blab about if I wanted to keep my balls in tact. I was gay.  
  
If I let anyone know this, not only was I afraid of ridicule and hate crimes from my peers, my father would literally rip me limb from limb.  
  
I sighed. I would be stuck with Pansy forever. Unless...suddenly it occurred to me...although I had told Pansy that I was cheating on her, I had never actually done it. This was because, given my sexual preference, there was no girl that I wished to be with, and I was afraid of getting caught in another relationship. But I had no choice. I would rather be with anyone than Pansy. I was willing to take that chance.  
  
But who? Since I really didn't care, I decided that the next person I saw (besides Pansy) would be the lucky one.  
  
Almost like fate, right after my decision, a door up ahead opened. It seemed like hours before the person emerged. I patiently waited to see who it was......  
  
Harry Potter. 


	2. Seaman

Draco's name for his dick (*Mr. Happy*) is from the best story ever, 'Harry and Draco learn About the Birds and the Bees,' by Pocky Faery. After you read my story (and review it!) you should go read it, because it's awesome. Also the names Sea Man and Swallow are from South Park, owned by Comedy Central, and created by Trey Parker and Matt Stone. I just thought they would fit in so well with my story.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Sea Man:  
  
I had pretty much blown off the incident in the hallway, until I arrived late to Care of Magical Creatures. There was no room on the Slytherin side of the room, I would have to sit next to a Gryffindor. On fact, the only spot left was right next to Potter.  
  
I groaned as I went to go sit next to him. We glared at each other and then listened to what Hagrid (the dumb oaf) was explaining.  
  
"Today's topic is Sea Monkeys. Now, muggles say they have Sea Monkeys, but they're nothing' more than brine shrimp. True Sea Monkeys are capable of blowing up a small country, and lucky for us, we have some here today. Now I don't have very many of them, so you'll hafta share."  
  
Great. Not only would I have to sit next to the arsehole, I would have to work with him, too. As Hagrid was passing out the Sea Monkeys, I asked Potter where mudblood and the Weasel were.  
  
"For your information, Hermione is in the Hospital Wing because her eyebrows got Dangerously Bushy again. Oh, and Ron's in the bathroom dropping acid." Potter was angry. I loved making him mad. He was sexy as hell when those green eyes were ablaze with anger. Yes, you heard me. I hated Potter, but I wasn't going to deny to myself that he was hot. Even though I didn't know my orientation when I fist met him in Madam Malkin's, I definitely found him attractive. Too bad he turned out to be such a dick.  
  
After every table had gotten a tub of water and a Sea Monkey (a little two-inch creature that looked remarkably like a thin version of Pansy), Hagrid told us that if it got out of control, bad smells would stun it slightly. Then he instructed us to put the Sea Monkey into the water.  
  
I grabbed the ugly thing (the Sea Monkey, not Hagrid), but it got scared and started squirming all over the place.  
  
"Just stick it in," Potter said. I paused. Was it just me, or did that sound a little...um...naughty?  
  
I ignored his comment and said, "It's squirming too much."  
  
"We need something that smells bad to stun it. Your breath should do it," Potter laughed. "Blow on it."  
  
Okay, that definitely sounded naughty. I could feel my gave getting warm, and that seemed to egg Potter on. "Hell, if you want to make it really easy, just stick the whole thing in your mouth! That outta stiffen it up."   
  
I blushed even redder, but luckily, Potter figured it was his low-rated insult that embarrassed me. He gave me a smug smile.  
  
I glared at Potter, angry about what his fantastic good looks were doing to me. The muggle lover was winking at Lavender Brown, still bragging about his insult, so I grabbed the Sea Monkey and thrust it right next to his mouth. The Sea Monkey stopped wriggling in an instant.  
  
"Guess you better use a breath mint, eh, Potter?" I smirked and dropped the creature in the water. It floated, face down. I guffawed with laughter. "You killed it, Potter! I can't believe it! What the hell do you eat, dog shit?"  
  
It was Potter's turn to become a deep shade of crimson. "Well it's your fault, you bastard! Suck my balls!" With pleasure, I thought. Like the goody-two-shoes Gryffindor he was, he tattled. "Hagrid!" Potter wailed. "Malfoy killed our Sea Monkey!"  
  
Hagrid sighed. "Sea Monkeys are indestructible. Just point yer wand at it an' say "Halitosis!"  
  
Potter blushed again and said to me, "You do it. It's entirely your fault that this happened."  
  
I rolled my eyes and pointed my wand at the unconscious Sea Monkey. "Potter has...Halitosis!"  
  
Nothing. Not even a spark.  
  
"Halitosis!" Still nothing. "HALITOSIS!" I yelled. "There's something wrong with my wand."  
  
"No, there's something wrong with you." Potter snapped. "Give me your wand. Let me feel it."  
  
Stupid sexy Potter. I looked down and blushed again, then slowly handed him my wand.  
  
Potter gave me a puzzled look. "No comeback? Rich, powerful Draco Malfoy, giving in to lowly Harry Potter? What's going on?"  
  
"Nothing," I mumbled.  
  
"Come on Malfoy, spit it out!"  
  
I gave a surprise little squeak after this comment, then said, "Nothing," firmer.  
  
Potter still didn't look convinced, but dropped the subject. "Halitosis!" he said, loud and clear, but still nothing happened. "You're right, for once. THere is something wrong with your wand." He handed my wand back to me. "Maybe all the magic leaked out of it. Try rubbing your wand, to stimulate it."  
  
At hearing this, I accidentally knocked some papers off of my desk. I got up, bent over, and looked over to see if Harry was checking out my arse. Unfortunately, I couldn't tell. An eyebrow was raised and he had a slight smile on his face, but it could have simply been in amusement.  
  
I picked up my wand and uncomfortably started *rubbing* it.  
  
"FASTER, Malfoy!" Oh Merlin. Why? "Seriously, all your brains are in your dick."  
  
Well that was obvious. I *rubbed* my wand *faster*, got a little shock, and tried again. "Halitosis!"  
  
It worked. "Thank Merlin," Hagrid said. "Those Sea Monkeys cost 50 knuts a piece. O-K, now it's...Observation Time! Observe yer Sea Monkey. If it's happy with it's habitat, it'll get bigger, like a sponge. If it stays the same size, well, then it's not happy, an' as I told yeh, they're very destructive, so get ready to kiss yer ass goodbye."  
  
Potter was definitely getting a kick out of the Sea Monkey. What a loser. He was giggling like a schoolgirl. "Hee hee, aw, look how happy he is! Hey there, Mr. Happy! *gasp* He's growing!"  
  
I glanced around nervously. The Sea Monkey wasn't the only *Mr. Happy* growing. Wishing to think about something else, I actually tried to start a conversation with Potter. "So, um, Potter, what class do you have next?"  
  
Confused, Potter answered, "Uh, Transfiguration?" and went back to watching the Sea Monkey.  
  
"Oh," I said, pretending to sound interested. "Uh...do you like it more than this class?"  
  
"Um, I suppose," replied a baffled Potter. "You know, it's more fun, but it's Harder..."  
  
Damn. That didn't work.  
  
Potter was still extremely amused by the Sea Monkey. "Heh heh heh, look at him swimming around, like one of those aquatic divers! I'm going to call him Sea Man!"  
  
That slut Lavender Brown butted in. "You named your Sea Monkey, too, Harry? Me and Parvati named ours Swallow, because she's graceful, but really ugly, and Swallow sounded better than Bloody Pigeon."  
  
This was too much. "Sea Man and Swallow? I bet you like that combination, Potter, you Uncle Fucker!"  
  
I guess this was the last straw for Potter. He grabbed me by the collar, pulled me up a few inches to his face, and challenged me to a duel.  
  
By now, everything was sounding wrong. "I might want to duel you," I said coolly. "What would we be using?"  
  
"Our wands?!" Potter was so pissed off, therefore so sexy, that I got bolder.  
  
"Well I know that," I raised my eyebrows at him, "But which ones?" I asked, and lowered my gaze.  
  
It took a couple moments for Potter to understand what I was talking about, but when he did, he seemed disgusted. He screamed and threw me back as if I had Ebola, and jetted out of the room.  
  
Aware of everyone's staring eyes, I calmly got up, brushed myself off, and said, "That pussy can't even take a joke." I then went back to watching Sea Man. 


	3. Cranny Banany

Again, I don't own these characters, JK Rowling does, nor do I own Cranny Banany, which is owned by Zoglo's.  
  
Cranny Banany:   
  
I laid down on my bed for several hours after class, staring at the cracks in the ceiling and eating Cranny Banany. I tried, but I couldn't think of anything other than the event in CoMC. It was embarrassing enough to be aroused by Harry Potter, much more so to have him actually run out of class because of something I *oh so cleverly* disguised as a joke.  
  
I had just finished off the package of Cranny Banany and was looking for something else to pass the time with, when I saw a snowy owl that I had often seen From Afar fly into my room and dropped a note right on my head.  
  
I don't know what you were trying to pull in CoMC today, but it wasn't funny.  
  
Sincerely, Harry   
  
I quickly scrawled a note back to him:  
  
~*~ You arse. It was just a joke. Why are you taking this so hard? ~*~  
  
Yours Truly, Draco Obediah Zachariah Wilbur Legolas Malfoy  
  
I smiled down at my end result. I knew those calligraphy lessons were worth the money. I folded up the letter and gave it to my owl Elton. Then I cried myself into a nap.  
  
I was awoken by a loud banging on my door. I quickly got up, smoothed my hair, and answered it.  
  
Potter was standing there, raging with fury. Damn, he looked good. My lust was only surpassed by my surprise.  
  
"W-what are you doing here?" I stammered. "How the hell did you get in?"  
  
"I told Pansy Parkinson that I was an extra in Village of the Damned. She never noticed that I was one of her classmates, or questioned why I wanted into her Common Room. That little girlfriend of yours, she's not too bright."  
  
"It's not like I want to be her boyfriend, I can't stand the bitch! Anyway, what're you doing here? Still miffed about my little joke?"  
  
"A joke? Real mature, Malfoy!" he spat. "Some things shouldn't be joked about!" He got closer to me, and I noticed that he took my advice and used a breath mint.  
  
"What are you talking a out?" Potter always was a prude, but I never thought that my crude statement would offend him this badly.  
  
"Oh right, like you don't know!" Potter was shouting very loudly now. He was so angry his eyes were starting to water. Not too sexy anymore.  
  
"What, your pansy arse can't take a sexual reference? Why don't you go perform a play about how sex can hurt you deep inside, and then you can go make things out of egg cartons!"  
  
Potter slammed the door. He spoke quietly now, but still shaking with anger. "If you only know what it's like. But you have to act like it's a bad thing."  
  
I watched him advance on me, without the faintest idea what he was talking about.  
  
He was talking through his teeth, so it was hard to understand him. "Just because I'm different. Just because I'm Gay."   
  
Whoa. Those last two words were definitely clear.  
  
"What?" was all I could say. Finally I mustered a, "You're...gay?"  
  
"Yes, and I don't want people to find out! Keep your fucking trap shut!" Potter yelled. "You fucking homophobes think--"  
  
I cut him off. "Harry, dear, gay people can't be homophobic."  
  
His jaw dropped open. I wanted to use this opportunity to kiss him, but decided against it.  
  
"Yes, I'm gay too." Then at the same tome, we both said, "You're hot. Too bad you're such a dick."  
  
Then it hit me. "You think I'm hot, Potter?"  
  
"Yes," he scowled. "What's it to you if I want to fuck you?"  
  
I raised an eyebrow. "What are you waiting for?"  
  
"It seems that you've forgotten that I hate your guts," he said, narrowing those *gorgeous emerald eyes*.  
  
"Don't flatter yourself," I smirked. "Sooner or later we're going to end up killing each other, but what's wrong with a little bit of fun between the sheets in the meantime? You know, sex like rabbits, but without all those lovey-dovey bunny emotions?"  
  
"Are you suggesting..."  
  
I nodded.  
  
"Do you really think this could work?" he asked.  
  
"What could go wrong? Even if your dick was two feet long, I could never like your personality. There's no relationship involved. No dates, no phone calls, no kiss goodnight...just hard-core sex. What do you say?"  
  
With that, Potter stuck his tongue in my mouth, I grabbed the whipped cream, and we got it on till dawn. 


	4. Glittery Pants and Glittery Feelings

Ok, I lied. Not all of the characters belong to JK Rowling. Frieda belongs to me. But all of the others do. And Naked Chef belongs to the Food Network.  
  
Glittery Pants and Glittery Feelings:  
  
The nest couple of months were going pretty well. I was very tired, but also extremely pleased. Potter and I still managed to throw insults at each other whenever possible, despite our nightly trysts in the laundry room. There were only two people I dared to tell what was going on between me and Potter , Crabbe and Goyle, because the wouldn't know the difference.  
  
Crabbe: You know what'd be a cool movie? Steve Urkel meets the Beatles.   
  
Me: I slept with Harry Potter last night.  
  
Goyle: What about the Backstreet Boys meet Caesar Romero? That'd be sweet.  
  
But now that the Christmas Holidays were starting, and I was stuck at home with my father, there was nothing to do. I hated to say it, but I missed school. I missed harassing mudblood, I missed hearing the 70's porn music that consistently played in the Slytherin Common Room (K-Porn), I missed seeing Sean Connery every day, and I really missed shagging Potter.  
  
Right now, I was reduced to laying on the futon in my sister Frieda's guest bedroom. (Her original room was turned into a torture room/bean garden by my father.) Frieda had graduated Hogwarts several years earlier, and was now a *professional* tarot card reader.  
  
"What are you doing in here?" she asked in surprise as she walked into her room.  
  
"Well I wanted to cry myself into a nap, but it turns out that dad took apart my bed to make a new cane. Can I sleep in here?" I answered.  
  
"I guess," she said. "Just don't have any dreams about Harry Potter. I don't want to have to wash my sheets."  
  
I quickly sat up. I had never told Frieda about what Potter and I were up to. "How'd you know that?? The cards?? You always told me they were a load of crock!"  
  
"It's not the cards, dumbass. A crack addict could do my job." Hmm. I would have to tell Weasley that. "You've only talked about Potter every second I've seen you for the past 6 years."  
  
Oh Merlin. Did I really talk about Potter that much?   
  
"Don't worry, I won't tell dad," Frieda *assured* me. "I don't think that he's quite ready to accept that yet, he's just gotten over the fact that you're gay."  
  
"Dad knows I'm gay??" I screamed.  
  
"Well of course! What did you think all those face canings were for? I mean, you're gayer than an 18th Century British boy on his first picnic. You didn't think that you could get away with buying those tight silver glitter pants without the family suspecting something, did you?" She must have seen that I was worried, because she quickly changed her tone. "Oh come on, Draco. Uncle Legolas was gay, but dad forgave him soon enough....then again, Legolas did have access to the Ring of Power....and he wasn't in love with the Boy Who Liv--"  
  
"I don't LOVE him!" I almost too quickly cut her off. "Potter is only good for sex! I do admire his skills with a whip...but that doesn't mean I love him!"   
  
"Well all I've been hearing from you this entire week is pure adoration for the boy. Next thing you know you'll be buying a Harry Potter yamaka."  
  
"Potter's a wanker, I hate him!" I shrieked and ran out of Frieda's room trying to hold back the tears (because apparently some people think I cry too much...Read Draco's Heartache!). So I tried to get my mind off of things with a Hebrew Hot Dog and Naked Chef. 


	5. Back HandspringFlipCartwheelCartwheelFli...

First and foremost, if any of you are Boy-Meets-Boy fans, CONGRATULATIONS WES! Ok, I'm calm now. Sorry about the randomness of this chapter. On to the *ugh* disclaimers. I lied again. Legolas does not belong to J.K. Rowling. But the way I see it, she never wrote disclaimers for the things she took from Lord of the Rings, and here I am writing my ass off with disclaimers for using Harry and Draco. Oh well it's worth it. I don't own Legolas or Draco, nor Legolas's co-worker, though I wish I did.  
  
Ha ha, my spell-check thinks that Draco should be Draino. How it knows the word Draino I'm not sure. Ok fine, you don't care. Onto the story. Oh and by the way, if you feel like it, go to http://www.floo.nu/hpmonthly/ to see some fanart and vote for me! I'm still Get Lucky. It's not Harry/Draco, but Ron is in pain so that's always fun. If you know any good fanart sites I can submit my stuff to, please email me! Thanx. Onto the story. This time I mean it.  
  
Back Handspring-Flip-Cartwheel-Cartwheel-Flip-Springboard-Air Flip-Spread Eagle:  
  
In between crying, thinking about fucking Potter, and sowing the family quilt, I had gymnastics lessons with Uncle Legolas. They were my favourite part of the Winter Holidays. Today was Saturday, 4 o'clock. I eagerly waited for him to come to my mansion after his job in San Diego (he's a fundraiser) again like a puppy waiting for his master to come home.   
  
Then he Apparated into my front yard, looking as magnificent as he did in The Two Towers. I was lucky, I had his genes.  
  
"Hey Draco, what's up? Ready to learn gymnastics?" He asked. I nodded my head like I was having a seizure, with an insanely wide smile on my face, too excited to say, 'am I ever!' "Well then, lets go! Up and atom!" He put his fist in over his head in a dramatic fashion as we Apparated to his basement.  
  
"Ok, Draco. We have to master the Back Handspring-Flip-Cartwheel-Cartwheel-Flip-Springboard-Air Flip-Spread Eagle move today, because I have to work late tomorrow, and since you go back to school Monday, I won't see you until SPRING BREAK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1"  
  
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" I yelled, falling to my knees.  
  
"It's ok, Draco," Uncle Legolas consoled me. "I'll still send you care packages every week including antidote for the poisoned pancakes your father sends you."  
  
"I know, I know," I said, trying to hold back the tears that Draco's Heartache reviewers don't want me to shed. Going back to Hogwarts was bittersweet; I would miss Legolas, but Harry--I mean Potter--would be there. "Well, let's not waste out time," I said suddenly. "Let's do some gymnastics!"  
  
"That's the spirit!" Uncle Legolas smiled. I did gymnastics for 6 hours straight, but no matter how hard I tired, I couldn't get the Back Handspring-Flip-Cartwheel-Cartwheel-Flip-Springboard-Air Flip-Spread Eagle move down. I did the Back Handspring-Flip-Cartwheel-Cartwheel-Flip-Springboard-Air Flip part perfectly, but every time, I couldn't land the Spread Eagle. I either missed the vault entirely, fell off of it, or landed on my groin. Hard. My dick was red and pulsing.  
  
When he heard a large crunching sound, Uncle Legolas decided it was time for a break. After we relaxed with some fruity drinks (which reminded me of Potter), Uncle Legolas got a glimmer in his eyes, jumped on the bar table and shouted, "Dance Party!" With the flip of a switch, the basement transformed into a disco, and "It's Rainin' Men" started blaring out of the 69 speakers on the wall. I smiled, and got on the table with him.  
  
As I was picturing thousands of Potters falling from the sky with frilly parasols, I opened my eyes, and immediately stopped slapping my arse. Uncle Legolas had stopped dancing, and was looking at a picture of his positively fuckable co-worker from San Diego sadly. I hopped off the table and put a hand on my uncle's back. "How's that going?" I asked.  
  
"He's in Australia with his new boyfriend," he choked.  
  
"What? Who could be better for him than you?" I said angrily. "You should go to Australia and kick his boyfriend's arse!"  
  
"No--no," said Uncle Legolas, "They're meant for each other, I'm glad he's found true love. But Draco--" he focused his blue eyes on me, "The only thing I regret is not telling his how I felt. Now it's too late. Remember that."  
  
I nodded, and went into another daydream about Potter wearing nothing but a blue heart-shaped necklace. 


	6. Fun at Merv's

I am J.K. Rowling. All of these characters belong to me. This story is an excerpt from the next book. Mervyns does not belong to me. Oh wait, I'm J.K. Rowling. Yes it does.   
  
Fun at Merv's:  
  
All day Monday I was waiting for my chance to talk to Potter alone. I finally got a break. I walked into the bathroom, where Potter was busy at a urinal. I grabbed him by the back of his cloak and pulled him into the nearest stall.  
  
"Ok, Potter. We've been waiting for this the entire break. Let's fuck!" I started to pull down his pants (which was actually useless, since his goods were already out for the world to see), and expected similar feedback. Potter, however, slowly pushed me back and said, "Not now Malfoy, I'm busy today."  
  
I stared at him, quite aware that I was about to start a hissy fit, but I didn't care. "What? What could be more important than me?"  
  
Potter shrugged. "Shopping."  
  
I was speechless. My mouth hung open and my eyes were practically popping out of their sockets. "Shopping??" I repeated.  
  
"You can come if you want," he replied calmly. I was considering going into that hissy fit I mentioned earlier, but I thought that the store would probably have a dressing room.  
  
"Fine," I scowled.   
  
"Great!" he smiled, and pulled out his wand (his real one, not the one I wished he would pull out).  
  
"What? Are we Apparating? That's illegal! What is we end up in some old fat woman's bathtub?" I panicked.  
  
Potter rolled his eyes. "Since when do you care if something's against the rules? Remember when we did it in Magonnagal's pointy hat closet? Besides, I've Apparated here a million times. We won't get lost."  
  
I held his hand (which, I realized, was against my own rules of no physical contact with Potter except for sex, but it wasn't in a romantic way, so it was okay) and tightly closed my eyes, afraid of where we would end up. "Merv's!" Potter said loud and clear, and then I opened my eyes. We were there alright. I shook his hand off mine and walked to the entrance.  
  
"Ah, Merv's," Potter sighed. "Home!" I rolled my eyes and began scanning the store for bathrooms or dressing rooms or anywhere private. Sure, I loved Merv's too, but I was determined to not have any fun until I got Potter out of his clothes.  
  
Eureka! I saw a dressing room. I decided to use my *master luring tactics* to get him over to it. "Hey Potter," I said slyly, "Let's hang out by that dressing room. That would be...cool. Heh heh heh."   
  
"Ok! Merv's is always an adventure! In fact, my 10th birthday was the adventure of a lifetime!"  
  
"Really? What happened?"  
  
"Well, it all started when I read in the gossip column of the newspaper that I had so little muscle mass that I couldn't lift a pencil..."  
  
I couldn't believe it. We had a conversation that didn't include the words, "I wanna sex you up." But I did want to sex him up, so I used some more of my clevertivity to get him in the dressing room.  
  
"Hey Harry," I said quickly, "Don't you want to try on this..." I pulled an item off the rack next to me and read the tag, "Maternity sailor suit?"  
  
"Sure!" he grinned.  
  
"What do you want me to try on?" I asked suggestively. Potter spent what seemed like an hour deciding, and finally handed me a turquoise sequined dress that I already owned, but seeing as shopping wasn't my main motive, I agreed. I followed him into the dressing room stall. He just looked at me.  
  
"You're supposed to go in the next stall, Draco."  
  
"But neither of us really want me to do that," I said, pouncing on him like the blonde tiger that I am.  
  
"No! No sex," Harry said firmly, as if I were a dog and he was the master, and for some reason just wouldn't let me have a bone.  
  
"Not even oral?" I whimpered. "That's not even really sex..."  
  
"No!" He repeated. "Now go try on your dress!" I sulked to the next stall over and put on the dress. I walked out, still pouting. Potter smiled at me. "You look stunning!" he beamed. Well, that was true.  
  
But I decided right then: Fuck Potter. Fuck him right in the ear! I was young, gay, wearing sequins, and in Merv's. I should be having the time of my life! "Fine, Potter. If you have suddenly become asexual (because even straight guys would get turned on by this sexy thang), I'm shopping. You can either follow me or go fuck yourself."  
  
"Hooray!" Potter yelped (yes, yelped) as he skipped after me. I never thought that he could be interesting anywhere but in bed (or the elevator, or the broom closest, or in a field of daisies, or the Planter's Peanuts factory, but you know, anywhere we have sex) but today was a surprise. We had tried on raincoats, galoshes, Egyptian headdresses, leather leather chaps, leather thongs, buttery leather pants, and more. Needless to say, the day was action-packed. When we arrived at the hat stand, a velvety pink sombrero caught my eye.  
  
"Hey Harry," I said, trying it on, "Don't you think I look cute in this hat?"  
  
"Amazing!" he said, grabbing me by the hands and we twirled and twirled and twirled and twirled and twirled and twirled and twirled and twirled and twirled and twirled and twirled and twirled.   
  
We collapsed on the floor and gazed into each other's eyes. Too soon, it was time to go home. Harry dropped me off at the door outside my common room. "That was fun," he grinned. It was. I couldn't deny that. Oh wait, yes I could. It was remarkably easy!  
  
"Well, maybe if you have nothing else to do," I scoffed.  
  
Harry got a pained look on his face and looked at the ground. The he looked up as if he was about to say something, and looked at the ground again. He repeated these actions for quite some time before I broke the silence.  
  
"Well? What do you want?" I glared.  
  
Harry looked at me a moment before he answered. I could see his green eyes were becoming wet with tears. "I- I want a kiss goodnight."  
  
Oh. "Harry...the rules..."  
  
"Fuck the rules!" he yelled. "We made them so we wouldn't get attached, but we did anyway, so who cares? Why can't two people who love each other express it in ways other than sex?"  
  
"Because," I swallowed, "I don't love you." I looked at Potter's stunned face for a second, and slammed the door.  
  
I went straight to my room and tried to distract myself with Uno Solitaire. But what if I was wrong? What if my fascination with Potter was more than just sexual? Angry, I threw the Uno cards across the room and went to sleep on my velvety blanket. 


	7. I Dream of Harry

Disclaimer: You know what, fuck it. I take way too many things from other places. I'll just have a really long "thank you" list at the end of the story. Please don't sue in the meantime. Most of this story actually is from dreams that me or my friend had, just not with Harry Potter characters. I'm Neville! Except for the whole Voldemort and shirt thing. And thanks to my reviewers! I love you all! Please review this chapter if you have the time. Flames are welcome, they're fun to make fun of.  
  
Chapter 7:  
  
I Dream of Harry  
  
That night I had a dream. It wasn't my typical wet dream, but it was quite stimulating all the same.  
  
I was in my sowing room, minding my own business, when Seamus Finnigan, Neville Longbottom, and Blink-182 showed up. Everybody immediately started dancing, and before long, we were all dating: I was with Mark, Seamus with Tom, and Neville with Travis.  
  
Neville was being an asshole. Thankfully, in reality, he wasn't, not anymore, after he got raped by Voldemort. He had also stopped wearing his *so very tight* "HOTTIE" tank top, but in my dream, he was wearing it. Damn him!  
  
But anyway, the next day we were at Hogwarts, and Neville came up to me and said, "Guess what? Travis and I are engaged!" and showed me a wedding ring holding a diamond with a diameter of an inch. But apparently Travis had something against me, as he started chasing me with a pair of rusty scissors that I had stabbed Avril Lavinge in the head with. I ran and ran and ran, even though he had stopped chasing me long ago.  
  
I ran into my sowing room, where many a person was there, including Neville, Austin Powers, Arnold Schwartznegger (who was also my father in the dream), and George Bush. Yay!! A sowing party! Wait. Neville. He must have been there to finish the job for his fiancee! Wait. What the fuck is George Bush doing in my house?? Gahhh... But back to Neville. He had twenty bags of popcorn that he was about to put into the microwave. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" I lunged at him in a dramatic fashion, but it was too late. Austin Powers (wearing red hot pants) was cheering him on. The popcorn exploded, filling the whole room, suffocating all the people in there, and EVERYBODY DIED!!! Except for me.  
  
So there were eight feet of popcorn filling the room. I must have grown about four feet, because my head was sticking out of it. I decided that I was hungry, and I was standing in a sowing room of popcorn, so what was I waiting for? I started to eat, and when I was done, I noticed that the room had changed. I was sitting in an auditorium, and on the stage was none other than...  
  
"Harry Potter," said the announcer, "performing... a tap dance." And that he did. Harry was wearing simply a top hat, white gloves, a monocle, and, of course, shiny black tap shoes. He looked kind of like Mr. Peanut.  
  
"Hello room," he said coolly, even though I was the only one in there.  
  
"Hey baby," I replied.  
  
And he started his dance. It was magnificent. I was in awe. When it was over, I yelled for an encore.   
  
"Oh, you'll get your encore," he said.  
  
*MATRIX SEQUENCE STARTS*  
  
Harry: Mr. Malfoy, you get my package?  
  
Me: Yeah.  
  
Harry: Well good. Surprised to see me?  
  
Me: No.  
  
Harry: Then you're aware of it?  
  
Me: Of what?  
  
Harry: Our connection. I don't fully understand how it happened, perhaps some part of you imprinted onto me, something overwritten or copied. It is at this point irrelevant, what matters is that whatever happened, happened for a reason.  
  
Me: And what reason is that?  
  
Harry: I made you love me, Mr. Malfoy, I watched you love, with a certain satisfaction, I might add, and then something happened. Something that I knew was impossible, but it happened anyway. You destroyed me, Mr. Malfoy. Afterward, I knew the rules, I understood what I was supposed to do, but I didn't; I couldn't; I was compelled to stay, compelled to disobey, and now, here I stand because of you, Mr. Malfoy, because of you I am no longer an agent of this system, because of you I've changed, I'm unplugged, a new man, so to speak. Like you, apparently free.  
  
Me: Congratulations.  
  
Harry: Thank you. But, as you well know appearances can be deceiving which brings me back to the reason why we're here. We're not here because we're free, we're here because we're not free. There's no escaping reason, no denying purpose because as we both know, without purpose we would not exist.  
  
(More Harrys come)  
  
Harry 2: It is purpose that created us.  
  
Harry 3: Purpose that connects us.  
  
Harry 4: Purpose that pulls us.  
  
Harry 5: That guides us.  
  
Harry 6: That drives us.  
  
Harry 7: It is purpose that defines.  
  
Harry 8: Purpose that binds us.  
  
Harry: We are here because of you, Mr. Malfoy. We're here to take from you what you tried to take from us, purpose.  
  
Harry: Yes, that's it. It'll be over soon.  
  
Me: You.  
  
Harry: Yes, me. Me, me, me.  
  
Harry 9: Me too.  
  
Harry: More...It is inevitable.  
  
*MATRIX SEQUENCE ENDS*  
  
I woke up, hot and sticky (from sweat, geez) and tossed away my wet and salty pillow. I reached for my stuffed giraffe wearing a lei to hold for comfort, but it seemed that Goyle had stolen it again. I groped around (oh god, everything I say reminds me of Potter) in the dark looking for something to cuddle, when I ran into something large and feathery. When it tried to claw my eyes out, I figured it was Harry's owl. It gave me a package, and flew off. If turned on my Hello Kitty lamp and shakily opened the note. *Please Merlin* I prayed, *Please, if you have any love for me at all, please let Harry be forgiving me in this note*. I looked down at the note and saw:  
  
FUCK YOU   
  
Damn. I should have known better. I continued reading.  
  
And not in the literal sense of course. I hate you. I thought you had changed, but I can see that you're still an arsehole. I bought you a birthday present today at Merv's. But I guess you wouldn't want it unless you can think of some kinky sex game to go along with it. Which, knowing you, you probably could. I'm sending it to you because I never want to see it again. I never want to see you again, or anything that reminds me of Draco Malfoy. Go fuck yourself-- cuz you can't have me anymore.  
  
~Potter  
  
For once, his suggestion actually didn't seem too appealing. I have to admit, I am an excellent masturbator, but fucking myself or anyone else was nothing compared to Harry, in all his awkward inexperience. I opened the package, and something yellow and floral fell out.  
  
A sunbonnet.  
  
Merlin, I had never seen anything more beautiful. I brought it up to my face. It smelled like Kool-Aid. Like Harry.  
  
A very strange fantasy went through my head of Harry busting through the wall and going "Oh Yeah!" like the guy in the old Kool-Aid commercials.  
  
I laid on my bed and smelled Essence de Harry until I could fall asleep.  
  
AN: Sorry that sucked. Next chapter will have more sexual innuendos, I promise! He he, don't you love how Draco says "geez"? And don't you feel bad for Neville? I didn't mean to make him get raped by Voldemort, it just turned out that way. Why is he hanging out with Draco anyway? Same with Seamus. But I guess Draco likes him because Seamus is the coolest girl at Hogwarts. Ah. Long story. 


	8. A Dance for the Fat Lady

If you hate Author Notes, scroll down to the ~'s...  
  
AN: Wow, this chapter took forever! Sorry about the wait! I actually only spent 10 days writing it, but it took a couple months what with finals, and school, and all my other stuff. Not to mention that once I had finished, I kept leaving it in my locker. Yeah. But at least it's long, unless you think it sucks, then that wouldn't be a good thing. It's 21 pages handwritten, scattered here and there in my biology notebook. I've decided to up the rating to R because the word "shit" (or related words) is used 29 times just in this chapter (it's intentional that it's used so much, as Draco is in a Very Pissy Mood). I was only 3 off from my guess of 26. Plus, I figure that it's better to be safe than sorry, because one of my other stories got reported and I lost my account and all of my wonderful reviews! I miss them! *tear* BUT, I'm back, as Lucky Limeade and I would be ever so pleased if you reviewed, despite this chapter being eccentrically random and strange. Some of it is sort of a comedy of errors, and Draco goes temporarily insane, as he misses Harry. He goes through lots of character changes extremely quickly as well. I blame it on his raging hormones. I stole a lot of stuff from other people (for example, part of Harry and Draco's note is from the poem 'In the Orchard' by Muriel Stuart) and many are things that I found funny, put in my *oh so precious* Happy Bunny notebook, forgot about, and then made myself fit them into this chapter (such as Fruit Sex {a semi-true story!} and Draco's Emerald Green Muffin Incident, which is thanks to a misreading by my good friend Amanda, Shimmering Dragon, God, The One, Yami Yugi Moto, or whatever the hell you want to be called when she read the Very Good story Dear Rival by Bittersweet Revenge) so that's why it's so random. Well, I like writing way too long author's notes, but I really suppose I should stop. But thank you so much to my reviewers, and those who put me on their Author Alert lists or Favorite Authors list!!! I will thank each of you who I still have records of below. Thanks!!  
  
Yura-Yumi -- Thank you for putting me on your favorite author and favorite stories list! *hugs* And thank you for reviewing my story!! I'm so glad you like it!  
  
Princess Bratty -- Thanks! And also thank you for putting me on your author alert list and favorite stories list too!  
  
driven to insanity -- I know, it is strange... this chapter is even weirder, but I'm glad that you like it so far and hope that you like this one too!  
  
Souls Judge, Anubis -- Wow! I don't think that anyone's ever called my story 'amazing' before! Thanks! And even more of a plot develops in this chapter, so I hope you like it! Thanks for putting me on your favorite stories list, I was thrilled.   
  
Dagmar -- Hee hee, thank you! I always love getting reviews from you, you're the only one who likes Crying!Draco! Draco's Heartache will be back up shortly, it's at my friend's house so one of these days we will update and repost it. Currently, it's at my site, http://www.geocities.com/chunkylover009/index.html, but I haven't updated yet so it's the same as it was when you last read it.  
  
Rayne-Jelly -- It gets stranger. Hopefully I will get a bit more normal by Chapter 9. And I know, poor Neville. Btw, I've read a few of your stories, they're quite good ;D   
  
She-Who-Is-Not-To-Be-Psyc -- Oh, yes, it is raining men. That has got to be Draco's favorite song. It might pop up in later chapters as well, I'm unsure. Oh, and now, if you want to check out my artwork, it's on my site, http://www.geocities.com/chunkylover009/index.html, so if you feel like it you can look at it there!   
  
bobby -- Thanks! Here's chapter 8!  
  
MagickBeing -- Yes. Merv's. Thanks for your review! And look, after all that time, I actually did continue! Because I would be a bit afraid to have those Demon Llamas after me... Anyway, I read Feelin' Faint, and I really liked it. Linkin Park is one of my favorite bands and your fic went with the lyrics very well. Good job.  
  
Arwen Rayne -- Uh oh, doesn't seem like the mushrooms are out of his diet quite yet... I think Dumbledore could be behind that, crazy old coot. Also, I agree with you about George Bush :)  
  
Curious Dream Weaver -- Well, it's based on a bunch of dreams that my friend and I have had. Everybody keeps telling me that Draco's dream is disturbing, but I've never had a dream that actually made sense. But that's probably just because I have a messed up mind. Too many sexual innuendos crammed in there. Thanks for your review!!  
  
NayNymic -- You're the only person that I can remember who had me on their author alert list when I was Get Lucky, so I wanted to thank you for that and also to tell you that I absolutely love Ultionis Diem. It is an extremely funny, cute, and well-written story. Thanks!  
  
  
  
Shimmering Dragon -- Hello Yami! Don't worry, I didn't forget about you! Thanks for all the inspiration on this fic, and for reviewing it. I'm glad that you finally did, because whenever I search for you, I get 200 other Dragon names. Grrr. But now I have an easy way to get to your story! Huzzah. M'kay well thanks and sorry for making you wait this long! Oh, and I changed the name of Crabbe's kitten. Ha ha, that song from the credits of American Pie 3 is on the radio.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
8  
  
A Dance for the Fat Lady  
  
The radio woke me up at 9. Simple Plan was on. Shit. Harry's favorite band. I grabbed some clothes and headed to the showers. Shit. Harry's favorite pair of boxers. I checked my schedule to see what classes I had today (I was still feeling groggy, Harry's sugary smell had an effect on me -- maybe that's why Ron was always so fucked up -- wait, no, that was the drugs). Shit. I had Potions today, but no counseling time with Snape. Snape was my school counselor. I had confessed to him what Harry and I were doing and so he had us sit together as a *punishment*. But I had no counseling time with him today to tell him to break Harry and me apart. Shit.   
  
After my shower (which was quite difficult as I was naked and thinking only of Harry) I reached for an Extra-Strength-Glow-in-the-Dark Elmer's glue stick to slick my hair back. Shit. I was out. I wasn't about to go to Potions with my hair in it's natural state, curly and platinum blonde. The last time I did that Snape called me a "cherub", which started a bunch of (untrue!) rumors: I believe they went a little something... like this:  
  
"What's a cherub?"  
  
"A naked baby angel."  
  
"Snape is picturing Draco naked?"  
  
"Draco's naked? With Snape?"  
  
"Oh, so 'that's' what those *counseling* sessions were for."   
  
"Malfoy is Snape's personal man-whore, from 9:10 to 10:40 every other day."  
  
I started going out with Pansy after I couldn't take being called "Snape's Bitch" anymore. Of course, that didn't help much, it just replaced Snape with Pansy, but at least word never got around to my 'father' about my gayness.  
  
But anyway, I had no hair gel this morning. So I opened the jar of raspberry preserves Uncle Legolas sent me a couple days ago and used that in my hair instead.  
  
I went though my miserable day. I missed Harry. Everything I saw reminded me of him. Crabbe brought his black kitten, Dark Magician, to Transfiguration. It sounded awfully like Harry in bed. I was positively miserable, and the whole say was spent worrying about Potions. I knew that I would see Harry at lunch, so I wanted to skip it, but Goyle wanted to have a serious conversation about potatoes and as Dark Magician had mauled Crabbe's face, I was the only person he had left. I didn't want anything to seem *out of the ordinary*. Sigh. Harry used to "maul" me.  
  
So I went to lunch. Shit. Harry was there. Shit. He was eating a banana for gods sakes! He put it in his mouth sooooo slowly. I had stopped listening to Goyle talk incessantly about his potato he was growing in a jar (he named it Peter). I was preoccupied with something else. Shit. Harry was making me hard. During lunch. Not that he hadn't done that before, but this time we were in the Great Hall, in front of everyone, and I would get no release. I looked down at the big bowl of gravy with equal on top I had been eating (hey, I have weird eating habits, ok?), but I didn't want it anymore. I wanted Harry for lunch.   
  
But alas, it seemed as though I would have to eat what was available for the moment. For once I didn't resent Dumbledore, as he had awarded each table muffins (god's gift to man) the color of their house. I reached for one, and paused. I knew that color. Shining Emerald #53. Shit. The color of Harry's eyes. The most beautiful color I had ever seen. Now preserved in the form of muffins, Harry's eyes gazed up at me, whilst my heart melted.  
  
The picture was ruined as Goyle greedily grabbed a muffin and stuffed it into his putrid mouth.  
  
"NO! What are you *doing*, man? You're making him *blind*!!" I screamed before slapping Goyle, causing most of Harry's Gorgeous Eye/Delicious Muffin to fall on the table. But it was too late. It was... destroyed! Eep. And (ew) soggy. I ran, sobbing, out of the hall.  
  
I quickly came back to retreive a muffin for my self, and ran, sobbing, out of the hall.  
  
I went into my closet to prepare a muffin shrine and began to sing.  
  
"My Harry 'tis of thee,  
  
Sweet man of liberty,  
  
Of thee I --"  
  
Goyle ruined my song by barging into the room. What is with him destroying my senseless delusions today?  
  
"You left your Cosmic Brownie in the hall," he said. He continued babbling, mainly about Peter, so I zoned him out, thinking about messy black hair, eyes like muffins, sweet kisses and soft whispers, and Loony Toons, until suddenly I heard him say "fruit sex".  
  
Oh no. I had told Harry not to tell anyone about that night! 'I' hadn't even told Crabbe or Goyle! Even though it was treacherously amusing. I'll never think of watermelon the same again, heh heh.  
  
"Shit, who told you about Harry and my little naked romp that involved fruit? I swear, that's all it was, it didn't mean anything!" I yelled. "Is that all they said? What else do you know?"  
  
Goyle was apparently bombarded with too many questions, as his face became emotionless, his eyes half shut, and he began to drool all over our rug.  
  
He snapped out of his lifeless state and asked, "Why are you still in the closet?"  
  
"I'm -- not -- GAY!" I screamed. "And I 'didn't' eat watermelon off of Harry's *so tantalizing* body! Gah!" I ran out into the corridor, flailing my arms wildly as I went.   
  
Shit. Goyle knew too much. He would surely tell the whole school. Well, I knew what I would have to do. I would have to go and admit to the whole school myself that I LOVED Harry Potter before the rumors got too out of hand.  
  
Ha ha, just kidding. I just had to kill Goyle.  
  
But first I needed a weapon. More specifically, I wanted a mighty weapon of mass destruction. Even more specifically, I wanted 'Harry's' mighty weapon of mass destruc -- shit. Not going there.  
  
But unfortunately, in order to get a weapon of desired destruction, I would have to go to *ugh* Blaise Zabini. Blaise's father owned a family restaurant/laundromat/weapon store. I searched the school and finally found Blaise in the ballroom, dancing with him/herself.  
  
You see, nobody knows exactly *what* Blaise is. He/she's either a very feminine man, or a very manly woman. Nobody has the heart to ask him/her, not even us Slytherins, and nobody has the stomach to see him/her naked. It doesn't help that he/she's bisexual. But we're all very curious to find out.  
  
"Look, Blaise," I said to him/her, "I need a weapon. A mighty weapon." Don't think of Harry, don't think of Harry... "You see, I need to use this weapon to destroy someone..." In a way I had destroyed Harry... "And, uh, he'll be a hard little bugger, so I'd like to get him in bed -- I mean, when he's sleeping! He'll be... tough to kill so I want to get him when he's asleep!" Shit. This was not going as planned.  
  
My thoughts were interrupted by a voice behind me. "Lemon Drop, boys, or boy and girl?" Shit! I swear to Merlin, our Headmaster stalks us.  
  
"Yeep!" Blaise squealed, and rolled up into his/her puffy jacket. Shit. I was alone with the only man crazier than I was in this chapter. Dumbledore was backing me into a corner, with a mad-man grin on his face. His eyes were twinkling incessantly, and my god, he was offering me *candy*! I was more than a little afraid.  
  
I was trapped. Cowering, I asked, "What will you do to me if I take one?"  
  
"Nothing," he mused. "Nothing at all."  
  
"W-What will you do if I don't?"  
  
Dumbledore voice suddenly lowered to Satan-Level. "I'll kill you."  
  
Well, Harry had always said that Dumbledore was true to his word. I took a Lemon Drop and faded off to sleep.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I woke up, completely unscathed. A couple galleons were gone from my pocket, but that was it. I would have done a victory whoop if I didn't feel like I had a really bad hangover. In a way, I had gotten drunk off of Harry's fucking smell! It was this that I blamed for my previous insanity.  
  
But I knew it wasn't that. I needed him. I had to get him back. But how the hell was I supposed to do that? Shit. I was afraid that this would call for some sickeningly pitiful romance.  
  
*FLASHBACK TO EXPLAIN LATER EVENTS*  
  
When I was nine, I did a kick-arse job on my Hebrew school final project. I made macaroni pictures to illustrate everydamn thing that happened in Exodus. As a reward for having the best project in the class, my teacher gave me a giant heart costume. Yes, a fucking HEART costume! What the hell! I flipped off the class and yelled, "Fuck you! I'm British!"  
  
*END OF FLASHBACK*  
  
So, in other words, I possessed a giant heart costume. Why I took it to Hogwarts, I'm not sure. I sighed, put on the heart, and went to get Harry back.   
  
It was a bit awkward walking all the way from the Slytherin dungeons up to the Gryffindor tower dressed as Cupid, but I just told everyone that I was drunk. Really drunk. I finally arrived at the portrait of a fat woman in a pink dress. What kind of portrait is that?  
  
The fat woman had a Big Mac in one hand and a Triple Thick Milkshake in the other. She was sitting on a large pile of other junk food and wrappers.  
  
"Password?" she said, panting. I guess sitting in one spot all day eating makes it hard to breathe.  
  
"Er... I don't know," I told her. "But, well, look at me. I HAVE to get in there to tell someone how I really feel! Please!"  
  
"Aw, that's so sweet! *pant pant* But I can't let *pant pant* you in without *pant pant* a password."  
  
No! This was my chance to get my man back! Shit. My eyes started to water.  
  
The fat lady looked sympathetically at me. "Jugufruit?" she offered.  
  
I declined. " 'Please', I really need to get in there!" I pleaded. "There's someone in there that I deeply care about and I need to tell him that!"  
  
"Oh, you're a little *pant pant* cute gay boy? Why *pant pant* didn't you say *pant pant* so? Tell you what: *pant pant* Dance for me and *pant pant* I'll let you in."  
  
Uh-oh. "D-dance for you?"  
  
"Just like a monkey."  
  
So I danced like a monkey in my heart costume while she laughed at me. I waited patiently when I was done, but she didn't budge. Her face flushed as she said, "Sorry, but it *pant pant* seems I'm too fat to move. *pant pant* Just knock and some-- *pant pant* --one will open the *pant pant* door for you."  
  
Shit. Why didn't I think of that? I knocked, and sure enough, someone did answer. Shit. It was Weasley.   
  
He looked at me. "Whoa, I am really trippin'."  
  
"Fuck off Weasley, I need to talk to Harry," I said as sweetly as I could.  
  
"Oh, uh," he paused to smoke his joint, "I don't think he really wants to see you."  
  
"Come on, Weasley! Look at me, you can tell I'm desperate!"  
  
"I don't know," pause for head scratching, "He seems kinda pissed."  
  
"But I've got a great big heart on!"  
  
I heard Harry's voice from inside his common room. "Ron tell 'Malfoy' to get the fuck out of here!" Ouch. Surname.  
  
"I think he wants you to leave." Pause for joint.  
  
"I have to see him!" I yelled.  
  
...  
  
"See who?"  
  
Damn Weasley. There was no getting to Harry. So I decided to wait for 10 minutes until we had Potions.  
  
I walked into the classroom and was greeted by... Snape in a giant corn outfit. Oh, shit. "Hey Draco!" he said almost 'cheerfully'.  
  
"Mlph," I replied.  
  
"Guess what we're doing today? No Potions! Today will be an ACTING class!" Snape had once told me during one of our counseling sessions that he loved theater, and the day he finally killed his ex-wife we would act and not have to do potions in class. It was obvious how much he lover theater; he had a prop room, where Harry and I often served unsupervised *detention*. There were, er, lots of toys.  
  
So I took my seat, to the left of Harry. I realized sadly that if we weren't fighting, we couldn't held hands under the des while still doing our work, as to not seem suspicious. (I'm left-handed, he's right.) I wanted to talk to him so badly, but he had a hard look in his eyes that told me, "One word and you're dead." Sigh. I wish his eyes weren't the only hard part on his body.  
  
So as Snape was explaining how to be a believable ear of corn, I pulled out a sheet of scented paper and meant to write "I'm sorry".  
  
Only it came out as:  
  
"Why the fuck are you so pissed? Merlin, we agreed on the rules! You have no reason to be mad! Fucking dumbarse."  
  
I never said I was good at apologies.  
  
Harry wrote back:  
  
"I'm not mad you don't love me. I'm mad you led me on, and then once you realised how I felt you continued to try to use me for sex. I overheard Goyle telling some people that he was talking to you, and he was just talking about how his potato's favorite food was fruit snacks and then you started talking about a certain "naked romp" we had and said that it meant nothing to you! Not to mention that I heard everything you told Ron."  
  
Dammit. Did I mention I had bad hearing as well? But what the hell did I tell Weasley that would piss Harry off? That boy is so sensitive.  
  
"I told Weasley nothing but my romantic plans!"  
  
"Oh yeah, real romantic. You're such a liar."  
  
True. But not about this! God, Harry was being irritating, though. If he wanted to pretend that I was using him, then fine, I could too. He continued,  
  
"I thought you loved me."  
  
"No, it was only fun."  
  
"When we stood there, closer than all?"  
  
"Well, the harvest moon was shining and queer in your hair, and it turned my head."  
  
"That made you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Just the moon and the light it made under the tree?"  
  
"Well, your mouth, too."  
  
"Yes, my mouth?"  
  
"And the quiet there that sang like the drum in the booth. You shouldn't have danced like that."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"So close, with your head turned up, and the flower in your hair, a rose that smelt all warm."  
  
"I loved you. I thought you knew I wouldn't have danced like that with any but you."  
  
"I didn't know. I thought you knew it was fun."  
  
"I thought it was love you meant."  
  
"Well, it's done."  
  
"Yes, it's done."  
  
The smell of the raspberry preserves in my hair was really starting to get to me. I raised my hand to see if I could go to the bathroom to wash it off, but Snape obviously saw it as a plead for a sex break, as he said, "Oh, uh, Potter, Malfoy, you're both wearing... shoes. Detention! In the prop room. Right now." And then he gave me a GIGANTIC, OVERDONE wink. Which of course didn't remind the students of those earlier (and untrue!) rumors at all.  
  
"Hey Snape, are you gonna use the whip?" asked Thomas.  
  
"No," giggled Snape, "I think Draco's going to be the one giving out *punishment*! Hee hee hee!" I buried my face in my hands. Snape may have been a good actor, but he sure was shitty at concealing secrets. "I'll show you two what you have to do." Harry and I uncomfortably followed Snape into the prop room. "Well, there's *plenty* of things for you to do in here. Use your imagination." *Wink*  
  
"Professor," Harry blurted out. "Dra -- Malfoy and I aren't seeing each other anymore." Then I heard him mutter, "Not like we ever really did anyway."  
  
Snape chuckled. "Riiiiiiiiiiiiight. If you need some *inspiration*, some tasks you can do are *waxing the banister*, make the chickens practice *cock fighting*, and feed the feathered gypsy midget with a learning disorder who serves sex in the night." He nodded over to the... well, yes, that. "Now get on with it!" He turned his heel and left me and Harry alone.  
  
Harry turned his glare on me. Shit, he looks so sexy when he's mad. But right now, I actually didn't want him to be angry with me. It made me feel... ashamed. Whoa, that's weird. But I wanted him. I could have easily overpowered him and taken advantage of him right there, but, I don't know, I like it when he enjoyed it. I loved his enraged eyes, but I learned that more than that, I loved his smile.  
  
Harry interrupted my thoughts. "I'm not going to sleep with you, you know."  
  
I glared back. "I know. I don't even want you to."  
  
He smirked and looked down. "Looks to me like you do."  
  
I turned around, trying to hide my arousal. "I do not! I'm just, er, having growth spurts! At different places of my body! I mean, who knows, in half an hour, one of my ears might be the size of Magonnagal's hat!"  
  
Harry started to laugh, but this wasn't funny. This was getting bad. I did a handstand (quite gracefully, I might add) to make the blood flow the other way.  
  
Bad idea. Harry walked over to me, spread my legs apart, put his head through them, and looked down at me. "Like gymnastics, Draco?"  
  
I snarled and removed myself from that position, accidentally-on purpose kicking Harry in the face in the process. "As a matter of fact, I do. And I'm quite good as well. I just can't land the spread-eagle."  
  
He raised an eyebrow. "Well that's odd," he said. "I've gotten you in a spread eagle *plenty* of times."  
  
"Nuh uh!" I protested. "Everyone knows 'I'm' the dominant one!"  
  
Harry laughed. "Draco, you're 'such' a bottom!"  
  
My mouth fell open "I am NOT!"  
  
"Are too!"   
  
"Am not!"  
  
"Are too!"  
  
"Am not!"  
  
"Are--"  
  
The door burst open. "Boys!" Snape exclaimed. "Enough with the foreplay! Where's the action?"  
  
'Dammit, Snape,' I thought. I knew he was just doing all this to make me happy, but I 'really' didn't want him to get involved right now. "Professor," I said politely, "This is between me and Pot--"  
  
"This isn't foreplay!" The Incredibly STUPID Harry interrupted me. In order for Harry to avoid sex with me, he would have to persuade Snape that we were really quite close to it, not tell him the opposite! So in that case, I let him keep talking. "Malfoy's a fucking bloody git," he muttered.  
  
Snape rolled his eyes. "Well obviously, Draco's not a 'fucking' bloody git as you aren't screeching in ecstasy. Besides, that has nothing to do with the problem. The problem is taht both of you still have your clothes on. To 'solve' that problem, give them to me. NOW."  
  
Harry and I froze. I was NOT giving my clothes to Snape. That was just too much. But he kept persisting. He even enchanted a pocket of air around me and Harry to reach 132 degrees. But we were stubborn, and simply gave us a nervous look. "I 'know' you two have seen each other naked before. There's nothing to be embarrassed about."  
  
"But... you!" Harry squeaked at Snape.  
  
"Oh *please*," Snape said. "I 'know' what a penis looks like, I have one! And contrary to popular belief, I'm straight, so I won't be thinking of you like that. Not to mention that I'm, like, thirty years older than you. Ew, gross. Now seriously, if you don't give me your clothes right now, I will give you a *real* detention, deplete you of all House Points, 'and' bewitch you to look like Granger."  
  
With that, Harry and I reluctantly undressed.  
  
Snape removed the heat around us and nodded. "Thank you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a class to attend to."  
  
He left, leaving Harry and I gawking at each other. Suddenly, though, Harry burst out laughing.  
  
"WHAT, exactly, is so damn funny about this situation?!" I demanded.  
  
"Nothing, it's just," he giggled, "I was just thinking about how dumb you sounded when you were talking about your growth spurts! Because 'that'," he pointed at my erection, "is one hell of a growth spurt!" He burst into a fit of laughter.  
  
"Oh, right, let's all laugh at how stupid Malfoy is! It's not like you're doing much better!" I keenly observed. "Besides, I am having growth spurts! I think my fingernail is a little longer..."  
  
"No, it's cute how stupid you are," said Harry, trying to subside his giggles. I wasn't sure whether to be touched or pissed off at his comment. Right after he said it, though, he blushed and said, "Er... besides, though, you said your 'ear' would be the size of one of Magonnagal's pointy ha--" Suddenly, a light bulb appeared over his head (weird things happen in the wizarding world). "Draco!" he exclaimed. "Remember when we had sex in Magonnagal's hat closet?? There were CLOTHES in there! CLOTHES, thank the Lord! CLOTHES!"  
  
"No way, Harry, we almost go caught! It's too risky!" And he was calling 'me' stupid.  
  
"It's less risky than going back to our common rooms!" he pointed out. "And I really can't just stay here..."  
  
"Why the hell not?" I demanded.  
  
"Um..." he hesitated. "Well, uh, 'cause I... I want you. Bad. But... I'm gonna get hurt again. I can't let myself."  
  
I reached out to him and he flinched. "Harry," I blurted out, "I won't hurt you this time. I promise." Dammit. I really hadn't meant to say that.  
  
He averted his eyes. "I don't trust you."  
  
Ow. That hurt. I wanted to protect him, I can't say why, but for some reason, I did! But how could I do that when I was what he was afraid of? So instead I just sighed and said, "Let's go get some clothes."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
We walked down the hall quickly, trying to hide ourselves as much as possible. We peeked in Magonnagal's office, and much to my surprise and relief, no one was in there. "Hurry!" I whispered to Harry. "Now's our chance!" We stealthily tip-toed our way into the room, rushing to the closet. We quickly closed the door and... something was seriously wrong.  
  
"It's empty!" Harry gasped.  
  
"No shit, Sherlock! Where the fuck are the clothes? What did she do with them??" I yelled.  
  
"Ow, I don't know, stop shaking me!" I did. "Her hats aren't even in here!"  
  
I was about to inform Harry that it really didn't matter, as we had no use for hats at the moment, but then I heard a voice float into the room.  
  
"...I finally found a flat, so I don't have to sleep under my desk anymore... I've already got all my clothes packed...."  
  
"Shit! It's Magonnagal!" Harry panicked.  
  
We peered out the door and saw Magonnagal carrying several cardboard boxes, followed by Flitwick. She set them down and. Started. Walking. Towards us. "She must have heard us!" I hissed, bracing myself. But then she stopped. She turned around, facing Flitwick. Her voice suddenly got much lover as she said, "But you know, Flitwick, even though I've stopped *sleeping* under my desk doesn't mean we can't use it for other bedroom functions."  
  
Oh God! Sick! Nasty!  
  
As I was gagging, Harry shot me a "shut up" look, even though I could tell he was disgusted as well, and I tried to stop.  
  
"Let me just lock the door," she *growled* at Flitwick (oh God, I'm disturbed for life) as she searched for her wand. "Goddammit, where the fuck is it? Oh yeah, I left it in the closet."  
  
For nearly half a second, I was shocked at Magonnagal's use of language, but then the reality of her words sunk in. She was coming to the closet. Now. While Harry and I were in there. While Harry and I were *naked* in there. BUT, she left her wand IN the closet. And sorry as I felt for Flitwick (who was currently backing slowly out the door), I had to save my own ass (and Harry's :D)  
  
"Quick!" I whispered. "Find her wand! Apparate! Anywhere!"  
  
Bustling around the tiny closet, Harry found it first. I latched onto him as he whispered, "Merv's", quite shakily.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
This was certainly not Merv's. I was wet. I smelled bath oils. The predominant color was mauve. Oh God. We were in an old woman's bathtub. Thankfully, however, it was just me and Harry.  
  
"Ha HA! Who called this yesterday? D - R - A - C - O! Draco!" I boasted while splashing Harry.  
  
He let the water peal off of him. "W-why didn't it work?" he sputtered out.  
  
"You suck at apparating," I smirked.   
  
He glared, but I could see in his eyes he was hurt.  
  
"Oh, come on. I was just joking!" I punched his arm. "You're underage, you can't be perfect! Besides," I narrowed my eyes suggestively at him. "I'd say you picked a pretty good spot. We're alone."  
  
Harry giggled, so I crawled on top of him and began kissing his neck. But a sudden shaking of the bathtub told me that we were *not*, in fact, alone.   
  
My head turned to the door to see a giant ball of dough with a tuft of red hair in a terry-cloth robe. Holy shit. Pansy.  
  
Harry and I started thrashing about, looking for an escape, but there was only one door, which was blocked by Pansy. No windows. She started to hyperventilate.  
  
"No wonder you haven't called! You've been thleeping with the enemy! I can't believe you! You have a beautiful girlfriend and 'thith' ith how you repay her?! Well no more! I had no fucking idea! I can't believe you're fucking HIM! I can't believe you're a fucking fag! I hate you! I hate you!"  
  
She threw a cake of soap at me, and trying to dodge it, I crashed my head into the wall. The pain made me forget what was happening just long enough for Pansy to waddle over and pick up Harry. He screamed.  
  
"Hey, what the fuck are you doing? Let him go!" I yelled.  
  
"I'm going to dithpothe of thith rat," she nodded at Harry, "and then I'm going to get rid of 'you'." She picked up the wand in the bathtub (SHIT, how could I have forgotten about that?), yelled "Abandoned Girl's Bathroom", and Pansy and a struggling Harry were gone.  
  
No. Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit. Shit. Pansy had just kidnapped Harry Potter.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
AN: Congratulations! You actually made it! So what did you think? I would love you forever if you would hit that little blue box in the lower left corner next to 'submit review'. Even if it's a flame. But please, pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease don't report my story without first telling me what exactly offended you, and giving me time to change it. Please. I don't want to loose my account again, I shall cry. But anyway, you really should review because I am making a point of reading more stories, and if you review mine, I will most likely end up reading yours and reviewing. Also, if anyone can tell me who Ron is based after, I will send you a picture of ANYTHING you want (preferably Harry/Draco though). And if you have no idea, just say something completely random, like 'Ed McCaffery horseradish sauce' along with a description of what you want drawn and I'll draw it for you because I have nothing better to do. WOW! This whole thing is 12 pages, I should stop. Ok! Hope you liked it! *hugs* 


End file.
